A heart-warming journey with parents of a certain age and a son who thinks he knows best
We love our parents. Of course, we do. Even if they do so many things that drive us bonkers.
Like how a mother - for argument's sake, let's say mine - taps her fingernails on the car window whenever she sees a place of interest (seven taps for a regular haunt, up to twenty for somewhere fascinating). Or the way a father - let's call him Dad - practises deafness but can miraculously hear the whisper of no ham at Christmas over the roar of the cricket commentary. It might be the way your mum works herself up over a call from Azerbaijan one week and Nigeria the next. Or how your dad has an answer to everything (despite his information being forty years out of date) and 'a guy' for all fixes (if only he could find his Rolodex).
When do we stop being our parents' child and become their parent? After all, they did pretty well on their own for decades - why do they need our intervention now? And that tendency for them to drive us up the wall ... could it be because we are entering middle age and starting to recognise those traits in ourselves?
Over the Hill and Up the Wall is an affectionate, funny look at the frictions of taking a more active role in our elders' lives. It's a nod to every child who has waited three hours for a parent to fasten their seatbelt, and every parent whose child assumes they can't count to twenty. And, if your parents are just hitting middle age, it may well be a warning of things to come!
